13 Mink Street

Chapter 35: For Dried Fish

Sunday, November 15th.

The sky was clear as Karon prepared lunch. The funeral home had been booked from the 14th through the 17th, but the “guests” were yet to arrive. The family found themselves in a strange state of paid leave, which left them feeling unanchored and idle.

With Aunt Winnie and his other aunt lending a hand, Karon prepared a lavish table. There were three hearty dishes on the table: braised pig trotters, scallops with garlic and glass noodles, and rabbit stir-fried with young ginger.

Every portion was generous. The pig trotters and scallops were heaped onto large platters until they nearly overflowed, while the ginger rabbit was served piled high in a deep basin.

Karon had made some slight changes to please his family’s palate. Doing so had become a ritual. No one seemed to tire of his cooking, no matter how rich or substantial the meal. Whenever something good appeared, everyone dove into it without restraint. Sweets and meats had always been staples in the house, so there was a high tolerance for heavy flavors.

When he had prepared the pig head for the sake of nostalgia, Karon himself had only managed to eat a few pieces. On the other hand, Ron and Uncle Mason had stood over the platter that evening after they had returned, forks in hand, steadily transferring the pork to their mouths as if following a mechanical process.

There were fewer side dishes on the table than normal: shredded pork with celery, bitter melon stir-fried with pork, chilled cucumber salad, sliced tomatoes dusted with sugar, and a cool salad of seaweed. The soup was crucian carp with tofu.

At the entrance to the kitchen, Karon dried his hands on a damp towel as he watched as Mina, Clarice, and Mina’s classmate, Sara, ferry the dishes to the table.

Uncle Mason took in the feast laid before him and let out a slow sigh. “Ever since Karon started cooking for us, I’ve wanted to skip breakfast so that I could save room for lunch. Come, everyone, have a seat. Dear, bring out the red wine. Today, we celebrate our first company meal with the new employees.”

Aunt Mary fetched a bottle, corked it, and Mina moved to pour it for all of the adults. The children had orange juice, but, out of habit, Mina moved to fill Karon’s glass with wine.

Alfred, dressed in gray work clothes, leaned over to inhale the aroma with theatrical delight. “My god, it smells incredible, and looks even better!”

Ms. Molly, in her maid’s uniform, eagerly nodded in agreement. The two turned to look at Karon, their surprise plain to see. Meeting their gazes, Karon felt a fullness that came not from the food, but from something else.

Tiz descended from the third floor. Everyone rose as he crossed the room. Karon watched Tiz’s gaze sweep over Alfred and Ms. Molly—still and unreadable—before he sat at the head of the table. “What a fine lunch. Please, everyone, enjoy.”

They all sat; Tiz at one end of the long table, Uncle Mason at the other. Along one side sat Aunt Mary, Aunt Winnie, Clarice, Mina, and Sara. Across from them were Ron, Alfred, Ms. Molly, and Lent. Karon set his towel aside to take his seat beside Lent.

They began to eat.

The meal was met with praise, and people ate with an almost desperate hunger. Karon had become used to it. Even Tiz, whose dining manners were always impeccable, finished quickly whenever Karon cooked, albeit more neatly than some at the table.

For Alfred and Ms. Molly, this was their first meal “personally prepared by the Great One.” Alfred ate with tears in his eyes, Ms. Molly sobbed as she crammed a pig trotter into her mouth.

“Is it good?” Mina asked quietly.

Sara nodded. “Yes. It’s delicious!”

Mina reached for the serving spoon, and then filled Sara’s plate for her, aware of her classmate’s reticence.

Karon sampled each dish before sipping some of his soup. He continued to observe his grandfather. As always, Tiz was the first to finish. It wasn’t just a habit; So long as he remained at the table, the others always seemed to feel slightly restrained. Perhaps sensing that, he would leave quickly.

“I’m finished. Please, continue,” he announced before returning upstairs.

No sooner was the old man gone than Uncle Mason and Ron leapt from their seats to serve themselves more.

“I’ve had roasted rabbit before, but never any that tasted anything like this! So tender,” Uncle Mason proclaimed. “Karon, now I almost regret it; We should have used the money for the crematorium to open a restaurant right here on Mink Street.”

"Yes, yes!" Ron bobbed his head while swallowing his eighth scallop.

Alfred chimed in, "This is the first time in my life I’ve tasted food so magnificent."

Ms. Molly quietly agreed, "It’s so magnificent, it brings tears to my eyes. It feels as if I haven’t really eaten for years."

You haven’t eaten for years. And now, you don’t even have anywhere left to digest it.

Uncle Mason chuckled. "Don’t worry. As long as we’re not busy, this is the standard work meal. I can promise you, nobody else gets work lunches like these."

Sara ate in silence, sneaking glances at Karon. There was a sort of ageless appeal about a good-looking older boy who could cook.

Karon ladled a bowl of fish soup and set it in front of her, causing Sara to blush. "Thank you, Karon."

Mina leaned over to whisper something, and the color on Sara’s cheeks deepened.

Mina knew that her cousin had always been handsome, but recently, he had felt more steady, more open, and even more difficult to look away from. She was certain that if he ever returned to school, his desk drawers would soon overflow with love letters.

Karon managed a modest smile to everyone around the table before standing up. "I’ll make some tea for Grandpa."

He went upstairs to the third floor, stopping to knock on the study door. "Come in."

He entered to find Tiz polishing a pair of spectacles. Karon had never seen the old man wear them outside of his study.

Karon approached the desk, but didn’t sit. Tiz set the glasses aside and looked up. "What is it?"

"Grandpa, don’t you have anything to say?"

"About what?"

"For example, about the two new employees in our house?"

"I heard from your aunt that you gave a good explanation of how things work here."

"That isn’t what I meant, Grandfather. They’re both demonkin, and Uncle brought them in without even knowing what they were. One of them will go out with Uncle when transporting the bodies, while the other will help Aunt Mary downstairs in the basement. Isn’t that a serious problem?"

Tiz shook his head. "I don’t see it as a problem. Demonkin need jobs, same as anyone else. Some don’t require food, but they like to drive and they like clothes. They also have normal expenses."

"Not a problem?" Karon stared. "Really, not a problem? Grandpa, you’re an Inquisitor at the Church of Order."

"I know." Tiz lifted the lid off his teacup. Karon reached for the kettle and served the tea.

"An Inquisitor of the Church of Order has a duty to maintain order. Our purpose is not to kill every demonkin we see."

Finally, Karon realized what he had misunderstood. He had seen his grandfather as an exorcist, or a hunter of evil creatures, but that had never been Tiz’s role, and he had never had any interest in such thing.

"The last time I spoke with Alfred, it was only because of the incident with Jeff, but after I learned that Jeff died while committing theft, I let the matter go. Under Swillen law, a homeowner is not responsible if their self-defense kills a thief. That’s why I warned them once to keep themselves in line. They agreed."

"And now," Karon said. "They’re part of our household."

Tiz offered a wry smile and held out his hands. "Most Inquisitors keep a few demonkin around to help. Divine Servants and Divine Seekers are only good for errands or paperwork. The useful Divine Shepherds usually move on to better work, or to train at bureaus in the regions. We simply didn’t have any before this, but there’s nothing unusual about it."

"And Pu’er?"

"Poelle... or Pu’er, as you call her—That name’s starting to rub off on me—Actually, Pu’er isn’t properly a house demonkin."

***

Outside the study, Pu’er lingered at the door, eavesdropping while the corners of her lips twitched.

"I’m family," she whispered to herself.

"In truth, Pu’er doesn’t count as a house demonkin. No one would deliberately keep one that weak."

Meow!!! Pu’er silently scowled.

***

"Even before I was born," Tiz continued. "Pu’er had interacted with the Immers family. When I was a child, she turned herself into a cat. All we’ve done for the time being is hire two more assistants, following the usual set-up for Inquisitors.

“They saw me before their interviews, and only after I agreed did they meet with Mason. I’ll provide both with church certificates, stating that they belong to the Church of Order, Swillen District, Roja City Inquisition. Demonkin who work for the church and are registered are far from rare. You’ll find some in every established church, not just the Church of Order."

Pu’er’s words suddenly echoed in Karon’s mind: “the orthodox churches... the truth is, every last one of them is demonkin themselves. The only difference is, they stand in the light and have the power to speak.”

“But Grandpa, if you never needed demonkin assistants before, why do you need them now, all of a sudden?”

“Because I am old.” Karon hesitated. He had not expected Tiz to respond with such blunt honesty. Tiz, seeing his grandson’s reaction, gave a soft chuckle. He lifted his teacup, took a slow sip, and said, “I know what you’re afraid of, but demonkin are not so different from humans. Not all of them are wicked by nature. Their gifts make it difficult, sometimes, for ordinary rules and morality to restrain them, but the same is true of many men. They’re willing to work within our home, and I trust them. Neither will harm the family. After all these years as Inquisitor, I find humanity more frightening than any demonkin.

“As for what troubles you.” The old man fixed upon Karon with a knowing look. “They see you as some sort of incarnation. You’re afraid that if you see them every day, you’ll slip, and fail to keep up the act?”

“Yes.”

“There’s no need to act,” Tiz explained. “You are flawless.”

Karon was silent, uncertain what to say.

What Tiz didn’t tell his grandson was that the second investigation into the divine descent ritual that had taken place in Belwyn City had already begun. Even the Church of Order had started to serve as support for Karon’s story. What reason was there to fear? Old Hoffen still clung to life, refusing to die before seeing Karon in the grave. When everyone believes a person to be the incarnation of a heretical god, their own thoughts on the matter become meaningless.

“They’re just trying to get in early, much like how Mason used to with stocks. What did he call it? Bottom-fishing. If they’re willing, let them be.

“Mason lost his house and ended up coming back home to drive a hearse like nothing had changed. You place your bet, and you accept the outcome.”

“I understand, Grandpa, but I think I’ll need some time to get used to it.”

“I have no doubt you will.”

Karon left the study. Almost immediately, Pu’er slipped in behind him, and she hopped up onto the desk to address Tiz. “Let the gambler accept his losses? I get the sense there’s still a chance to win.”

Tiz gave the cat a sidelong look and opened his hand.

Pu’er instantly sprang down from the desk, opening some distance between them.

“That night, don’t tell me you didn’t feel it. That power: pure, no disturbance and no disorder. Faint, yes, but absolutely clean.” Pu’er’s voice sharpened. “Tiz, he hasn’t even undergone purification. He isn’t even a Divine Servant yet.”

Tiz said nothing.

“Tiz, do you truly have no intention of letting Karon undergo purification?” Pu’er pressed. “What if he isn’t a heretical god? Though honestly, whether he is or not probably doesn’t matter to you.”

Pu’er paused. When she continued, her voice was a bit more quiet, but also more insistent, “Someone like him, such an exceptional vessel. If you were to bring him into the church, set him upon the path of Order... the gifts he could one day realize would be beyond measure—”

Tiz cut her off, “If I recall correctly, just last month you were urging me to kill him.”

With a twitch of her tail, Pu’er replied, “That was nothing but instinct. I was standing with the humans, instinctively.”

“And now?”

Pu’er lifted her head. “Now I realize... I am a cat. Even if he’s a heretical god, he’s a heretical god who’ll cook me little braised fish. Why hate that, as a cat?”

“You can be bought off with food?” Tiz asked wearily.

“You’ve never had to live on cat food for a hundred years, Tiz! It’s easy for you to say that.”

“I won’t allow him to be purified. I have already warned Alfred and Molly to never interfere with Karon’s development, or else they’ll face the consequences. Right now, I’ll give you the same warning, Poelle... Pu’er. If I find you trying anything, your hundred years of friendship with the Immers family is over. And worse: you’ll know true pain.”

Pu’er put on an air of wounded innocence. “Who, me? As weak as I am? I’m an embarrassment to demonkin these days.”

“When it comes to purification, Pu’er, it would be hard to find a higher-level ‘holy relic’ in all of Swillen than you.”

Pu’er stretched out on the floor while peering up at Tiz. “Tell me, Tiz, do you really still care about that old vow? That, after you pass on, no Immers will join the church? You’ve just hired on two demonkin as staff members. Either send Karon away to study abroad, or you will allow him to keep crossing paths with these matters. Sooner or later, he’ll come to you and ask for purification himself.

“Besides, I doubt you care so much about that vow. How many oaths have you sworn to the Church of Order over the years? When that divine descent was needed, you performed the rite, regardless of your vows. Most of all, as a grandfather, when it comes to your grandson, you are willing to compromise on absolutely anything.

“Damn, I actually think that your standards for Karon have fallen lower than they have for Mina, Lent, or Clarice. Well, I suppose I’m no different.

Tiz spoke calmly, “The second investigation into the Belwyn City divine descent ritual has been ordered, and Rasma himself has arrived from headquarters to oversee things here in Swillen. The other churches and organizations are undoubtedly investigating as well.

“Karon will remain safe as long as he doesn’t undergo purification. To any priest, unless he deliberately exposes his power, he appears purely as human. There’s no danger. Not yet. The future can wait. For now, we just need to survive this dangerous stretch.”

“I understand.” Pu’er stood. “But there’s something I need to remind you: Alfred and Molly will keep their secrets. Whatever rewards the Church of Order or any other established church may offer, none can come close to matching the reward of growing in the shadow of a heretical god.

“That goes for me as well, but there’s something else: Mr. Hoffen, that old man who simply refuses to die.”

“He’s simply hoping that I’ll kill Karon myself. He won’t betray me. He doesn’t want someone else to take my grandson's life.”

Pu’er moved to the door, then paused. “Tiz, there’s something I’ve never asked you. A high-level divine descent ritual like that usually demands a heavy price from the one performing it. I know you’re strong, stronger than people realize, but I want to know: what did it cost you?”

“When one is strong enough,” Tiz replied. “The price ceases to matter.”

Pu’er blinked, then relaxed, her tail flicking once. “Well, that’s good. I’m going to eat my sweet and sour fish.”

She paused, as if struck by a thought, then sighed dramatically. “Honestly... I think that damned heretical god has already clouded my eyes. I’ve let myself fall into his influence. That cursed heretical god! That cursed fish!

“And what’s truly unforgivable,” she muttered, sounding almost cheerful. “Is that I’m really starting to enjoy this feeling of being corrupted far too much.”